


The Friend Who Was My Enemy Is My Friend

by emiliaf25 (emiliaf24)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anxious Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Bonding, Brotherly Bonding, Cinnamon Roll Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Collin is the most lovable dumb bitch in all of Detroit, Collin's wardrobe, Comedy, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Needs a Hug, Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor is CyberLife's most anxious boi, Connor needs to relax, F/F, Family Feels, Friendship, Gen, Humor, It's Just A Prank Bro, Shaolin needs a hug, Social Media, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, YouTube, cinnamon roll Shaolin, what is android fashion even??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-15 21:22:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18677617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emiliaf24/pseuds/emiliaf25
Summary: Connor starts a self defense class for androids at New Jericho, and everything goes completely normal and according to plan......Honest.





	The Friend Who Was My Enemy Is My Friend

 

Connor could never have predicted that his little self defense class in New Jericho would gain so much popularity so quickly. In fact, most of his scenarios never reached as far as forming the class, because he always imagined getting thrown out - with varying degrees of violence - before he could even pitch the idea.

 

And yet, here they were on the fourth week of their Sunday session; fifty androids gathered in what used to be an Events Room at the old hotel that now served as New Jericho’s headquarters, with a dozen more hanging around the outskirts. Some were regulars that just enjoyed watching the lesson, while others were investigating to see if they were interested in joining at a later date.

 

Connor attributed the continuation of the class solely to Markus, who more than likely convinced everyone in that “I’m your benevolent leader trust me would this face and this outfit ever steer you down the wrong path no of course not” Markus way of his to not harass the former Deviant Hunter. In much the same way he had convinced Connor to start what was merely an offhand comment (NOT a suggestion no no _no teaching is not one of my features Markus -_ ) in the first place.

 

One did not simply say _no_ to Markus. Not if one did not want to feel like rusted scrap metal floating in garbage juice for the rest of their existence. Which was how Connor had felt during the 6.489 seconds he took compiling a list in alphabetical order on how this was a terrible idea.

 

He attributed the ever growing numbers to Collin, who was, inexplicably, the most popular android in New Jericho, and had a frightening amount of admirers who would not think twice about wearing a single roller skate on their hand if Collin said it was the latest trend. So, not only did he happily (and overzealously) advertise his lame older brother’s class to his considerable following, but he was also a faithful participant in the class. Collin claimed that it was because the shot to the head he took from Hank during the Revolution had corrupted some of his combative data, and felt this was a prime opportunity to get his fighting skills back up to RK800 standards. Connor thought it had more to do with being supportive, and keeping the attendance rate consistent from his mere presence alone.

 

...that is until Connor had asked Collin, a few days before his first class, to execute a scissor kick at the kicking paddle he was holding out for him. After gently chiding Connor for requesting something so simple, Collin proceeded to do a graceful backflip and land into a perfect split, arms thrown up in triumph as he beamed up at Connor. Smash Mouth’s _All Star_ immediately blasted from his internal speakers. Apparently he had ignored Nines’ distaste for installing subwoofers into his chest and had gone and done it anyway.

 

“YES!” he exclaimed. Then he frowned. “...wait.”

 

Connor was nearly paralyzed as his pre-construction program went crazy simulating scenario after grizzly scenario of Collin getting attacked and failing to defend himself.

 

“Uhh Connor? I see your stress levels have risen to 87% are you - ?”

 

“Private lessons!” Connor exploded, voice shrill with panic and anxiety. “You will be receiving private lessons in addition to the ones I host at New Jericho!”

 

“ _Awwwwww_ dang it. Do you really believe that is necessary?”

 

Another pre-construction of Collin getting mugged in an alley flashed before his HUD. The assailant brandished their knife. In response Collin yelled “ _YEET_!” and chucked one of Sumo’s squeaky toys at their head.

 

Connor’s LED blared red. “Clear your schedule on Mondays and Wednesdays please.”

 

So Connor was taken aback by the success of the class, yes, but he at least understood its fruition. What he could not understand was _why_ certain attendees continued to participate. Those certain attendees being Ripple and Echo - the two Traci androids Connor had nearly gunned down at the Eden Club - Ralph - the WR600 he had terrified in his pursuit of the AX400 and YK500 models who were merely trying to eat their sauteed racoon in peace - and Shaolin Being - the poor HK400 he had brutally interrogated to the point where he almost self destructed. All of them were currently seated cross legged on the gym mats that covered the floor, front and center, much like they had the week before, and the week before that. They were always attentive, always cooperative, and - aside from being the embodiment of his guilt laden nightmares - were all perfectly good students.

 

No matter how many times Connor ran his psychological analysis program, or consulted the human equivalent of a social module (i.e. going outside and doing stuff), he could not make embossed George Washington’s head or embossed eagles of the situation. So far he had narrowed their reasoning down to either a mass deletion of all memories involving himself due to the trauma he inflicted, or a long term elaborate plot to wreak their justified vengeance upon him when he least expected it.

 

If it turned out to be the latter, Connor just hoped that by that time Shaolin and Echo would have remembered to pivot on the ball of their back foot when they threw a right hook. Improper pivoting was the leading cause of strain and damaged biocomponents in the knee.

 

Once Connor finished summarizing what they were going to do today, he called up Collin to help him demonstrate the techniques. This was steadily becoming a routine in these lessons, as Connor was not comfortable manhandling androids that he had been ordered to murder not even a year ago did not know how to fall or dodge properly as of yet. Thankfully, of the skills Collin had managed to retain after being repaired, remaining limp and unflinching as Connor tossed him around like a particularly noodlely rag doll was one of them.

 

“...you can also block an incoming punch and add a take down and strike to ensure incapacitation,” Connor lectured.

 

Taking his cue, Collin dutifully threw a punch, wild and slow in an imitation of your average inexperienced racist jackass - the prime predator of innocent androids. Connor knocked Collin’s arm outward with a knife hand to his wrist, then placed his foot behind Collin’s leg and pushed him down by the shoulder at the same time. As Collin fell down, Connor quickly thrust his palm at his younger brother the second his back slammed onto the mats. He did not make contact; his palm stopped a centimeter away from his nose as a bit of air blew his curls aside from the force of the strike. He held his hand there for a second, so everyone could see the part of the nose and the angle they needed to hit at in order for the technique to be effective, then swiftly rose up and slid back a step, arms still up in a defensive position.

 

There were several impressed “Oooooo’s” from his rapt audience, along with many LED’s cycling yellow and blue as they recorded or took photos for later study. Some, who didn’t have the same amount of internal data storage as others, were taking notes on iGlass tablets.

 

“At this point you could take this time to call the police,” Connor said. “If you feel your attacker is safely incapacitated, and you are confident in doing so, de-escalating the situation is also an option. For instance, you could say; Hello, my name is Connor. I don’t want to hurt you further. Perhaps instead of fighting we could buy a frozen yogurt together?”

 

“ _Pssst! Connor!_ ” Collin said through their telepathic connection. He was whispering conspiratorially, even though they were not speaking out loud. “ _You should use the word ‘froyo’ as opposed to ‘Frozen Yogurt”. It’s the cooler way humans say it._ ”

 

“ _.....Is grammar a joke to you, Collin?_ ”

 

“ _Of course not!_ ” Collin sounded offended enough at least. Connor decided to reserve judgement for the time being, since they were family and all. “ _I’m just saying...one of the best ways to avoid further conflict with humans is to utilize their colloquialisms, right? So that should be reflected in our demonstration._ ”

 

“ _That is a good point._ ” Connor conceded after a bit of thought. “ _And I apologize for snapping at you. I admit that triggered some irritation in me, but that is no reason to be so explicit._ ”

 

“ _That’s alright, Connor. Let’s keep going with the exercise._ ”

 

“Excuse me,” Connor continued out loud “I meant to say: we could buy a _froyo_ instead?”

 

“GO FUCK A FOOT YOU DOLLAR STORE WHORE BITCH!”

 

Connor’s LED cycled red for two turns, and his guard went down the slightest. His expression did not change, however. As a teacher, and a new one at that, it was important to remain professional and confident so that your students were secure in the knowledge that what they were taught was being distributed by a respectable and credible figure.

 

But, oh. Ow. His feelings.

 

“ _Sorrysorrysorry! I was getting into character! That was drunken-rabble-rousing-human-Collin talking. Collin in RL would never tell you to fuck a foot!_ ”

 

“ _It’s...fine. Ah. Maybe we should establish what kind of dialog we will be exchanging before we do demonstrations next time….and the fact that we are roleplaying at all._ ”

 

“ _Yes yes of course, sorry! Sometimes I get an idea and just roll with it, you know?_ ”

 

Connor recalled the time they were walking Sumo at a park and Collin had abruptly veered off the path in order to dive into a nearby pond. Collin could not swim, so he had quickly sunk to the bottom of the pond, disappearing so completely into the murky depths that the only indication of his existence were the glittery slides that floated to the surface. He later explained that he had wanted to get closer to the ducks so he could take a selfie with them.

 

Collin called it “just roll[ing] with it”. Connor called it a short attention span and a severe lack of self preservation.

 

“And if your attacker proves to be unreceptive to your overtures of froyo related friendship - ”

 

“Damn right I’m unreceptive to a plastic cactus dick who wears ugly ass animal themed ties!”

 

“.... _Collin is there something you want to say to me or…?_ ”

 

“ _Nonono the sheep ties are my favorite keep going this is great!_ ”

 

“ - then uh…” Connor stumbled over his words the slightest bit, despite the reassurance. Good grief how embarrassing. Would he even have students next week? “The...best option would be to try and leave the situation - if the police are not there that is fine. Please never feel obligated to wait at the scene of the crime. Your own safety is paramount - or, if they continue to be aggressive and try and attack you again, you can counter like so…”

 

Collin sprung back to his feet and lunged at him, thankfully sans anymore insults (you don’t just go and besmirch a person’s _tie_ without warning there are lines you don’t cross ancient rules of warfare anyone would be left shaken it wasn’t just him). Collin threw another wild punch, and this time Connor caught his arm with both hands and just sent him flying over his shoulder in a succinct judo flip. When Collin landed, Connor quickly pushed him on his stomach and pressed the arm he was still holding against his back for a beat before releasing him.

 

“Remember to divert 10% more power to the legs when executing the flip - the momentum from their charging will compensate for any strength disparities - and then redistribute 10.14% into your arms once you securely have them in your hold.

 

“Does anyone have any questions?”

 

Ralph’s hand shot up in the air, causing his crushed blue velvet hip length cape to flip elegantly over his shoulder and reveal the white T-shirt he was wearing underneath. It had a rubber duck holding a plastic knife offensively at all who beheld it printed on it - which looked very becoming on Ralph, but wasn’t exactly what Connor had in mind when he told him (and everyone else) to bring their workout clothes. But it was a step forward in the right direction at least, since Ralph had been wearing a floor length feathery cape and a baggy jumpsuit during their last lesson. Shaolin also had on two scarves today instead of five, but kept on his puff coat, wooly mittens and a dang cool beanie that had “ _you are a good star_ ” in cursive stitched into the hem, as if to compensate for the loss. Echo was wearing straight up SWAT gear - a step _too_ far in the right direction (and brought up many questions that Connor would be trying to deduce on his own time) but he appreciated the dedication. And Ripple was cosplaying as Lara Croft; a very impressive interpretation of the character’s 2007 iteration, and a great deal more practical than the 1880’s full butler’s ensemble she had on last time.

 

The rest of the class seemed to have followed suit in this manner, appearing to have taken his advice but…not quite grasping what he was going for (except for Jerry - 645. He was content to be in his astronaut suit last week and so too was he content to be in his astronaut suit today). Ideally, Connor would have preferred they wear something similar to what he currently had on, which was a pair of DPD sweatpants and a black short sleeve shirt that simply said _WWMD: What Would Markus Do?_ He had foregone his more comfortable suit and tie to lead by example, as it were. It was all in an effort to get them used to using these techniques in the most ideal of circumstance possible, while simultaneously encouraging them to step out of their comfort zone.

 

To no avail, apparently. Connor would probably have to pry that Pikachu onesie out of Rupert’s cold dead fingers.

 

At least Collin had listened to him...in his own Collin way. He had on highlighter pink and lime green yoga pants to match his half green and half pink LED (Connor tried very hard not to fret about that out loud but the purely cosmetic change interfered with external diagnostic readings and so he _absolutely_ fretted about it internally), and a muscle tank top with a large smiling depiction of Mario on the front. A speech bubble hovered above the iconic, family friendly, Nintendo character proclaiming in bold, capital letters, “I JUST WANNA GET **_FUCKED_ **”. Connor didn’t know enough about art or humor to understand what kind of statement this was supposed to make, but knowing Collin he had probably only picked it because of his fondness for blue overalls.

 

Connor supposed he could chastise them, and reiterate the necessity of the assigned wardrobe. The data he had gathered on general teaching methods espoused this as a successful route to take. Casual observation told him that this was also the route of being an uptight little bitch. Which was what, after some thorough personal reflection, Connor did not want to be. If he were being honest, he felt far more agreeable towards teachers who rolled up the sleeves of their shirts to their elbows and sat down in their chairs backwards (the epitome of incorrect chair usage), even though their success rate was statistically lower.

 

Connor’s shirt was short sleeved, chairs were not generally conducive to martial arts classrooms, and if he insisted on regulating these peoples clothing choices any more than he already had, then he was certain he would be the direct cause of some very high stress levels (and a whole ass riot). But much like being a good detective, being a good teacher required the ability to adapt, even if it had to be his own perspective on a situation. People weren’t conveniently dressed in ideal, flexible clothing when they were being attacked, for instance, so it was for the best that Connor got them familiar with suplexing adversaries whether they were wearing leggings and sneakers or full length ballroom gowns.

 

“Yes, Ralph. Go ahead.”

 

“If Ralph is attacked and Ralph has a knife on him, should Ralph stab them?”

 

“You should do your best not to stab them, so no. It is very illegal.”

 

“Even if they make fun of Ralph’s scar and snazzy cape?”

 

“Yes. Although your cape is lovely and your scar makes you look like a dashing pirate from a mid 1990’s romance novel cover, and do not deserve to be insulted.”

 

Ralph’s cheeks flushed a light blue, as he brought a contemplative hand up to the jagged scars around his eye. “Ralph is...dashing?” he muttered in awe.

 

“Yes,” Connor said firmly. There wasn’t much conclusive data on positive self image reinforcement in teaching, but Connor decided to incorporate it anyway, because it was nice and he felt like it.

 

“What if it’s a spoon?” Ripple asked.

 

“You still should not stab them, no.” Spoons were more suitable bludgeoning instruments. He made a note to cover that in their next lesson. “That goes for all other unsharpened or otherwise unconventional stabbing devices as well,” he added.

 

Several hands went down. Shaolin was dutifully scribbling on his iGlass with the stylis, brows furrowed in concentration. “ _Don’t_...stab….peo - ple...with...lip...balm...” he quietly reiterated as he wrote.

 

Connor answered a couple of more questions, some pertaining to past techniques and scenarios, others steadfastly asked about various possible stabbing tools (he knew they all had perfectly valid reasons to be so stab happy but _holy shit_ were they stab happy). He then paired everyone up into groups of two and had them practice the techniques he’d shown today on each other. For the next thirty minutes the room was filled with the sounds of, for lack of a better description, weighted objects lacking any _squish_ colliding continuously with the ground. With the enthusiastic way they were all hurling eachother it was fortunate that a majority of them did not feel pain the same way humans did. The floor, and possibly New Jericho’s building repair funds, however, were suffering _mightily_.

 

Sorry Markus, Connor thought as Shaolin managed to bodily lift Jerry -645 and threw him like an astronaut suit clad sack of potatoes. The impact was felt and heard particularly hard to everybody in the room. Shaolin - who had a look of horrified concern washing over his face and was sending out rapid fire apologies to his partner - abruptly collapsed to his knees, apologies derailed and blinking in confusion.

 

After a quick scan and some calculations, Connor said, “10% in the _legs_ Shaolin, not 34% to the arms.”

 

Shaolin shrunk in on himself slightly. “Right, right,” he fiddled nervously with his mitten clad hands. His stress levels fluctuated between 33% and 42%. “You said that. It’s…a little hard to gauge for me when I get nervous, I’m…kind of a um. Older model, so…” he shrugged helplessly, looking down and like the saddest pile of poofy knitwear you ever did see.

 

Connor could have slapped himself (and marked it as a PENDING ACTION in his TASK LIST for when he got home later) for his hubris. _Of course_ older models would not be able to redistribute their power reserves so easily, you goddamn prototypical ignoramus. “It’s alright, I should have taken that into consideration,” he said as he walked over to the downed android. Connor offered his hand, keeping his movements as deliberate and non threatening as possible. He still remembered putting his hand out for an introductory shake to a New Jericho resident a couple of days ago (a subroutine kept running the memory file whenever he was in this type of situation and it was becoming a bitch to delete every time) and her subsequent violent flinch and abrupt retreat.

 

Shaolin took his hand with no perceivable hesitation and used it as leverage to haul himself up. He let Connor keep his other hand on his back until his legs calibrated and he could stand on his own. Something tense in Connor’s chest suddenly eased and his fans, which had stopped without his permission, whirred back at it’s normal capacity. Weird. Connor hoped a rabbit hadn’t gotten in there again; there were a lot of hollow spaces in his chest, and sometimes when your roommate/father figure dared you to chase your thirium with a shot of tequila and antifreeze…

 

“Shifting your power isn’t necessary for this technique,” Connor said in lieu of ruminating on his and Hank’s decisions made at three in the morning. “Just using your attacker’s momentum will achieve the same end results.”

 

“How’d _I_ do, Connor?” Jerry -654 chirped, not remotely shaken. He could barely lift his head past his hulking collar, but that did not stop him from grinning toothily at the two of them.

 

“Very well - but try to keep your chin tucked into your chest when you land. I know it does not hurt, but you can still damage biocomponents in the back of your head and neck if you hit it hard enough. Doing this will lessen the damage to those areas significantly.”

 

Jerry -654 gave him a cheerful thumbs up as he climbed back to his feet. “You got it!”

 

The two faced each other in their ready positions. Connor stuck around to observe. Jerry -654 lunged forward and Shaolin performed the defensive maneuver, this time only using his natural android strength.

 

“ _Wheeeeeeeeeeeee_ !” Jerry -654 squealed with delight. Then laughed madly when his back (chin _decidedly_ untucked) hit the floor.

 

“Perfect. That was much better,” Connor said to Shaolin. The HK400 blinked in shock, reeling back 0.31 inches, before a proud smile slowly stretched across his face. His analytical program’s prediction of Shaolin’s success for future exercises was inconclusive, but his microexpressions and steady stress levels suggested an increase in self confidence and happiness. Which was great for Connor’s ongoing Mission to obliterate self-doubt in every android he met, barring irredeemable criminals and dog abusers - the enemies of man and android-kind alike.

 

He turned to Jerry -654, and shifted his expression to Captain_Fowler_mod.13. The one he used whenever Hank turned in a report that was less than a page long, six days late, and covered in coffee and cheeto stains. _I’m not disappointed with_ **_you_ ** , it said, _I’m disappointed with humanity_.

 

When Jerry -654’s eyes teared up and his LED started whirling yellow with red slivers Connor quickly dialed back the expression. Right. He was teaching. Not asserting dominance against cocky rookie officers, or freaking out Detective Reed. “Please follow my instructions properly Jerry. I’m not trying to ruin your fun - I know aspects of these techniques are enjoyable in addition to their practicality. I’m only concerned about your safety.”

 

“Sorry Connor. I promise I’ll do it right this time,” he said, contrite, but at least no longer on the verge of crying. Connor probably should have seen this coming though. It was common knowledge that 1 out of every 3 Jerrys were addicted to being thrown long and high distances.

 

After making his rounds with everyone participating in the room (correcting holds, giving positive feedback and/or gentle criticism, reminding Ralph that _announcing_ his intention to stab someone did not negate its illegality), Connor wrapped up the class by giving them some tips on how best to practice these techniques during their free time, and announcing what they would be doing next week.

 

“We’ll be practicing how to safely disarm several types of weapons from attackers and, since Echo won the raffle last week, I will demonstrate the proper way to execute a chokeslam and we will attempt - _attempt,_ ” he emphasized when over excited cheers broke out, “to practice that as well. If we have time.”

 

The cheers continued. Jerry -654’s cheers were among the loudest, for obvious reasons.  Ripple pouted, as she had been very passionate in her pitch about learning how to karate chop burning cinder blocks. But the raffle was random, and fair was fair. Something Connor had to tell himself and the massive amount of regret he was feeling at ever suggesting a raffle.

 

With the class finished, everyone started to gather belongings and chat amongst themselves and/or the people who had stayed on the sidelines. People left the room, pace meandering, relaxed - Connor’s analysis program logged their body language and snippets of their conversation (that he couldn’t help overhearing) as indicative that their time spent here was productive and entertaining. It was a similar conclusion his program had come to last week. And the week before that.

 

**MISSION OBJECTIVE**

 

  * __Teach androids to protect themselves__



 

**Status: Ongoing**

**SUB OBJECTIVE**

 

  * __Retain current students and encourage growth in class__



 

 

**Scanning…**

 

**Probability Of Success: 98% and rising.**

 

At this rate he wouldn’t need to keep calculating the likelihood of his success, as the results would be obvious. The thought was oddly comforting to Connor, and brought forth a mixture of emotions he identified as relief, pride, and possibly happiness.

 

Then, as if to spite anymore burgeoning positivity inside of him, his other currently running **SUB OBJECTIVE** scrolled into view on his HUD:

 

_ >>>>>>>Avoid being burned as an effigy and having carcass left at Markus’ doorstep for past sins if possible. _

 

As always, he was hesitant to check the probability calculation. When he had first started the class it had been nearing the 90s, and that had made him feel (as Hank had told him when he described the mixed bag of emotions to him) pretty lousy. Mulling it over for another 4.0986 seconds, he decided to cancel the routine. This group’s behavior, from those he had directly harmed to those who had survived the old Jericho bombing (he had skipped many stasis routines to figure out who had been killed that night in an effort to assuage his guilt spoiler alert it did not) indicated that even if they were still harboring ill will towards him, they would not be acting on it in a violent manner. Thus there was no need to run the program because it was likely to be in the low percentile anywa -

 

 **Initiate Probability Calculation Routine:** { **_Subject_ ** _: determine if deactivating previous routine is result of not wanting pwecious wittle feelings to be hurt UwU_ } SELECT [Y]/[N]?

 

…The audacity.

 

>>> **[N]**......Asshole.

 

_Processing…….processing…..._

 

 **Running Probability Calculation Rou** -

 

CANCEL. CANCEL CANCEL CANCEL **_CANCEL_ **-

 

Connor’s proximity sensors detected Shaolin’s slightly hesitant approach. He dismissed all of the popups in his HUD, and then tried to appear as if he were not arguing with his software like some common short circuiting LG refrigerator.

 

“Hi Connor, do you have a few minutes?” Shaolin asked, lightly tapping his gloved hands together but otherwise showing no signs of distress.

 

❌ AWKWARDLY BRING UP PAST

⭕ BE AWKWARD

⏹️ BE YOURSELF: AWKWARD BUT WITH A COIN

 

 **UM**. _OKAY_. Were his systems just going to take pot shots at him all day, or what?

 

...That was a rhetorical question it was very clear with each passing day that Connor’s very schematic design wanted him to fail at being alive.

 

Connor smiled at him. In a normal and not at all offputting way. He was certain this was true, because he’d been practicing in the mirror for hours at a time, and 8 out of the 9 dogs he had tested it on in the park hadn’t run away in fear.

 

 _Why._ Why was this suddenly so difficult Connor had spoken to Shaolin not 13 minutes ago with _no_ issues was it truly so hard to converse with people outside of his role as an instructor or police investigator -

 

“I have time. What can I do for you?”

 

“Well, I had some questions - ”

“Heya Connor!” Collin chose that moment to strut up to them. He had put his half pink and green windbreaker and pink and green star shaped sunglasses back on, to the detriment of his older brother’s optical units, and with no sign of remorse. “Ready to go? There’s this new human shop I wanted to show you. I think you’ll really like it this time.”

 

“We can leave in a bit, Collin. Shaolin was just going to - ”

 

“Oh-oh n-no! It’s alright!” Shaolin waved his hands in front of him frantically and his stress levels went up by 2%, though he was not exhibiting signs of fear. Perhaps he was simply starstruck. It wouldn’t be the first time an android's vocal module had malfunctioned while standing in Collin’s presence - the girl who couldn’t stop using dolphin echolocation in between sentences had been particularly mortified by her behavior, but kudos to her for communicating her want of an autograph regardless. “This could take awhile and I-I don’t want to interrupt anything. We can talk about it next class.”

 

Connor also did not want to make Collin wait, as that would be rude. But he also _also_ did not want to appear as if he were brushing Shaolin off, since he truly wanted to provide assistance in whatever issue he was having. Before his programming could give anymore unhelpful, snarky prompts, Connor grinned as a solution became apparent. “You could come join us if you’d like? Ah, that is if you don’t mind Collin?”

 

“Sure!” Collin piped. “You know what they say; the more the messier! As in; we are going to consume all of this food in a messy fashion amidst the company of our close friends.”

 

Huh. Yea that seemed to check out.

 

He and Collin turned their twin attention to Shaolin, who was looking a little harried now, the faint yellow of his LED glowing through his beanie. It occured to Connor suddenly that perhaps two versions of the person that caused you a great deal of horrific trauma in the past (even if one of those people was very cool) asking you apropos of nothing to go somewhere with them might be construed as a threat instead of an overture of friendship and helpfulness.

 

“I...well...if it’s alright then - I was just going to go home today so - yes,” Shaolin said, nodding to himself determinedly before Connor could reassure him that he was under no pressure to do anything with them. “I don’t mind coming. Uh, but...it’s a human restaurant - is it....we’ll be...safe there, right?”

 

“Oh yeaaaaa,” Collin drawled, smile easy (maybe Connor should cut out practicing in front of a mirror and just practice in front of Collin. He was sure he wouldn’t mind being still for a few hours if he promised to go to a Cardi B concert with him. It wouldn’t be too troublesome; Connor wasn’t a big fan of live shows but he did enjoy classical music at least), waving his hand as if he could wave away Shaolin’s fears. “The humans there are cool with androids. One time I went in there with my arms attached to my leg ports and my legs attached to my arm ports and no one appeared concerned.”

 

Connor’s processors stilled, the only program running was his continuous pros and cons list of outfitting Collin with an undetectable tracking device. “That is... _incredibly_ bad for your biocomponents. For what purpose would you do such a thing?”

 

“It was for the ‘ _legs as arms, arms as legs_ ’ challenge.”

 

“Ohhh, I remember that! I liked that episode,” Shaolin said excitedly, most likely referring to one of Collin’s various social media platforms. At least he seemed less concerned by the prospect of being around humans now.

 

Connor was concerned instead. _All_ of the concerned. Was this another ridiculous yet potentially dangerous trend among androids? Was he super late (as he often was) on the “uptake” as it were, or was it a prevailing issue in the community that he should inform Markus about? Was Collin sticking other limbs into places they had no business in!? Was Connor a horrible sibling for not providing enough intellectual stimulus for his brother that he felt the need to put his nose in his eye socket like some horrifying game of pegs!?!?

 

“But that challenge died out a while ago, so I wouldn’t try it,” Collin said. “I mean you _can_ but it’d be, you know...kind of silly.”

 

Oh thank Kamski -

 

“Though if anyone can make it cool again, it’d probably be you Con. Hey! Maybe we could do a collab video where we both go into a bowling alley - “

 

“Uhhh, Collin! The longer we stay here the more likely it is to be crowded and increase our wait time therefore it would be in our best interest to leave now, correct?” Connor bulldozed right through that idea regardless of how rude it was, putting a hand to Collin’s back and steering him towards the exit, Shaolin following them bemusedly. How foolish of him to ever thank Kamski for anything, Connor thought darkly. Invoking the man’s name only ever seemed to bring him and his own bad tidings.

 

The three of them boarded a taxi since they all wouldn’t fit on Collin’s longboard... _after_ Connor vetoed Collin’s idea of having Shaolin (who looked rightfully panicked) sit on his shoulders.

 

Privately Connor marked it as a potential activity to engage in with his sibling at a later date. Purely as a calibration exercise for balance, of course.

 

The establishment Collin was so excited about was located in the small shopping plaza over in Greektown. When they arrived, they were lead towards a cheery, brightly lit store with a myriad of humans coming in and out, relaxed and smiling. The glowing, pastel colored sign hanging in the front read _Nom-Nom FroYo!_

 

Collin gave him a wide, open mouthed smile, elbowing him in the side as he waggled his eyebrows and gestured at the sign. It was clear that he was trying to convey that his earlier assertion that “froyo” was in fact a common term was true, in what was quite possibly the strangest of all flexes. But Connor had never doubted the word’s popular usage. He was merely offended by its existence.

 

They went inside and made their purchases. The bright lights reflecting off of the white paint and white linoleum floor made the shop appear as if it were brighter than it was outside, even though it was a little past the afternoon. The pastel accents to the wall paper, soft pop music playing in the background, and continuous chatter of humans of made the shop feel less sterile, though. They even had some cute little holographic caricatures of frozen yogurt cups dancing around the menu hanging above the register.

 

As Collin had said, and aside from a few curious glances, nobody made a fuss about a couple of androids milling about. They even had some android friendly toppings, or _Thiri-Yum_ products as the now Kamski-run CyberLife was marketing them as (very rare for a human store outside of some select grocery outlets). Shaolin happily drenched his mango sorbet in some electric blue tinted syrup.

 

Collin’s order of a large cup of root beer and chopped almonds, and Connor’s two separate cups filled to the brim with bursting boba balls and caramel syrup respectively, and a third empty cup that he insisted on paying for, did earn them some horrified stares from the cashier. She was shook to her core and in no way hiding it, gazing at their food as if it were a curse. To her credit, despite her disquiet, she was still unfailing polite, offering them a courtesy “I. I haven’t charged you yet. There’s still time to choose something else no seriously please take as much time as you need I’ll hold your place in line for you there is so much better in this world _please_ have mercy - ” before ringing them up with no other issue.

 

Connor could hear Nines’ disdainful comment about humans and their inferior pallets. Connor just felt bad for them, though. There was such a wide variety of interesting food combinations out there that humans were exempt from, all because of the limitations set by their biological senses.

 

Besides, Nines had no leg to stand on in this. There was eating pickle and ketchup purée and then there was straight up eating car bumpers; Nines was on an entirely different level even by android standards.

 

The three of them found a white plastic table with cute fruit designs to sit at. The chairs were unfortunately backless, so it was with much sadness that Connor had to concede to the MISSION FAILED that popped into his HUD under his BE A COOL HIP TEACHER Task.

 

Connor and Shaolin went over the latter’s questions, Shaolin’s tablet in between them as took bites from their respective treats. Collin preoccupied himself by taking pictures of his food and the shop in general.

 

“...and what if another android tries to attack you?” Shaolin asked, any trepidation he felt before pretty much eradicated during the length of their conversation. “Should we fight the same way with them?”

 

“Not exactly,” Connor said slowly. It was a very good question, and something he had been mulling over off and on. Android on android assaults were nowhere near as prevalent as human on android, but Hank and Connor received enough call ins to say it was not a statistic anomaly that they should be unwary of. It would be logical, and certainly nice, if all androids held a unified front regarding violence against each other. But self identity didn’t work like that. _Emotions_ didn’t work like that. “There are different points of contact you want to make and the force you use for strikes would need to be adjusted. I am still debating if I should teach the subject alongside our already planned lessons, or dedicate it to an entire separate lesson, or even bring it up at all - the primary directive of the class _is_ self defense against _humans_. A change may cause classwide consternation.”

 

“I think you should bring it up. Some of us have been talking about this for awhile now and everyone really likes - uh,” Shaolin paused and shifted his attention to his yogurt, maneuvering his spoon until the blue and orange swirled together. “I’m pretty sure no one would be upset - no matter what you choose to do.”

 

Connor nodded to himself, thoughtful. Shaolin, while being quiet and trepidatious in his mannerisms, had a fairly good rapport with his classmates, joining in casual conversation with many different androids and having no issues when partnering with someone. He was a trusted source of information.

 

“Alright. I will figure something out. Maybe we can address it during - ” Connor cut himself off as something in Shaolin’s notes caught his attention. “Shaolin, why do you have ‘ _yell “Welcome to Earth!” before punching haters in the face_ ’ under ‘FINISHING MOVES?”

 

Connor had already turned to glare at his brother before Shaolin even started to say, “Collin told me it was an important technique to utilize when the time comes. Oh um...I also wanted to ask what constitutes a _‘hater’_ exactly? I mean, my neighbor Phil said my shoes didn’t match yesterday but I don’t think I should punch and scream at him, right?”

 

“No, you made the right decision. Furthermore, please delete that note, I believe my brother was merely jesting.”

 

“Oh thank goodness,” Shaolin breathed out in relief.

 

Collin, at last finished with his fourteenth selfie, turned to the other two with a frown that was bordering on a pout. “I was not jesting. What else are you supposed to do if someone is fucking with your steeze?”

 

“Ignore them,” Connor said flatly, leaning forward with his forearms on the table and giving his brother a sharp look. Whatever a “ _steeze_ ” constituted Connor knew that it wasn’t worth getting into a fight over. “And yelling something before you attack is textbook levels of impractical that can lead to a failure of execution and serious injury on the part of the defending party.”

 

“ _What-but -_! You do it all the time!”

 

Connor didn’t waver. “And yet, my skill level is at such a point where any exclamations I choose to make or not make would not hinder my mission.”

 

Collin’s formerly incredulous expression shifted to thoughtfulness at that, his LED brightening in its unhelpful shade of green and pink. “Ahhh I see. So you’re saying that we will be covering catchphrases in later lessons?”

 

“That is absolutely what I am saying.”

 

Shaolin took hold of his tablet and dutifully jotted down their words, “...catch...phrases...when...be-tter...trained…”

 

“ _Of course,_ ” Collin hissed. He looked down at his clenched fist, brow furrowed. “Sorry Connor. I was trying to be proactive and get people excited about lessons, but I ended up spreading misinformation that might make them die instead - arguably the 6th worst kind of information.”

 

“It would reassure me greatly if you’d just bump that up to 1st, please.”

 

“Aw fuck! I really am dropping the luggage today, aren’t I?”

 

Connor patted his arm consolingly. Merely an hour and thirty-two minutes younger than him, but still so much to learn. “Let’s just try to go over any information we want to give to the class together in the future, ok?”

 

Collin nodded, microexpressions indicating that he had been properly mollified (of everyone in the family he was the least likely to brood, thankfully), then startled when the alarm suddenly went off on his iGlass phone. “Holy pandas is it time already? Hey, do you guys mind if I livestream? I can do it later or whatever if it makes you uncomfortable.”

 

“I don’t mind,” Connor said, honestly a little curious about Collin’s filming process. He watched his videos (he was a big fan of Collin’s Detroit: Safari Zone segments) every now and then, and Collin would sometimes flash his camera on Connor and Hank when he was visiting before wandering off to film elsewhere. But that was the extent of Connor’s experience with it.

 

“YES - _Uh_! I mean….if it’s ok?” Shaolin ducked his head slightly, but his LED was a bright blue through his hat and he was looking between Collin and Connor with excited anticipation. “Should we be quiet? I can be quiet.”

 

“Naaaaah, you can do what you want. Just act natural.”

 

“Natural. Right.” Shaolin nodded. He looked sure of himself for about 0.06 seconds, before he turned swiftly to Connor, suddenly panicked. “How do we act natural?”

 

Unfortunately, any words of reassurance failed Connor, so he could only offer Shaolin a shrug. In all of his year and a half of existence, Connor had never been able to act “natural” for one single instance. Even though that was one of his main selling points as a prototype. Even though lives had been depending on it. Not a single. Damn. Time.

 

Collin raised his phone up at an angle so that all three of them were in view, then, without so much as a “get ready”, activated his MyTube account wirelessly.

 

“SUP’ GAMERS!” Collin boomed. “IT’S YA _BOI_ , COLLIN! And I’m over here at _Nom Nom FroYo_ with my favorite brother Connor and my friend Shaolin - say hi to all our amazing viewers guys!” He adjusted the camera so that Connor was in view.

 

“Hello gamers,” Connor greeted easily with a little smile.

 

Collin panned the camera over to Shaolin, who ducked a little futher into his scarves before giving a shy wave, then he moved it so all three of them were in frame again.

 

In the upper left corner of his phone they could see that the viewer count was already at 152 and rising, while the chat section was, without exaggeration, going wild with how many people were simultaneously typing their comments.

 

 **datbloojuice** : at last. the promised son returns to us

 

 **collinswaifu** : literally he streams almost everyday you thirsty ho

 

 **datbloojuice** : my thirst is unquenchable i have nothing to hide

 

 **Spoompls** : First

 

 **Spoompls** : shit!!!

 

 **tipp-y** : Wait is this a gaming channel I’m confused??

 

 **Collintrash4ever** : @tipp-y he has been doing this for god knows how long and not once. NOT ONCE has he streamed a video game or done any gamer related content

 

 **best-number-60** : At this point i cant tell if hes trolling or just thinks thats how vloggers greet ppl idk you can never tell with collin

 

 **Ilikecats** : “HELLO GAMERS”!!! My sweet sunshine child u are the only pure thing in this dark garbage heap of a world <3

 

 **TheyIsAlive** : eXcUsEeeeEE!! Connor? Is on this stream?? And not just in the background???? Kd;aljfoaadfapjfia;o #ConnorArmy assemble!!

 

 **Sassydreamer** : HI SHAOLIN * _waves frantically_ *

 

 **Mr. Pringler** : oMG that hat is so cute!!

 

 **Best-number-60** : ya’llllllll don’t sleep on them scarvessss

 

 **Sassydreamer** : where’d you get the hat shaolin??

 

A human would not have been able to catch the rapid fire text; dialogs appearing for mere seconds before it disappeared and was replaced by another. It was barely legible, reduced to unfocused and blurry print blobs at the speed it was going. But androids perceived and processed the world at a much faster rate, so the three of them had no issue taking in every single question and comment Collin’s viewers were throwing at them.

 

“Oh uh, hi and..thank you,” Shaolin said, waving again. This prompted a string of frenzied “awws” and “i love him’s” from the chat. “I didn’t buy my hat from anywhere...my friend made it for me.”

 

 **Mr. Pringler:** daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamnnnit

 

 **Sassydreamer:** wait wait wait does your friend do commissions!?!

 

 **Mr. Pringler:** take my money, my car, i can take a loan out i’ve got 2 kidneys i only need 1!!!

 

Collin’s LED blinked rapidly, even as he kept his face in the direction of the camera and his upbeat expression unchanged. He was likely communing with Shaolin and reassuring him that he didn’t have to disclose anything about his friend if he did not want to. Times were getting better for androids, but there were still many that wanted absolutely no interaction with humans if they could help it.

 

Shaolin nodded imperceptibly at Collin before saying, “Yes she takes commissions - knitwear and cosplay props and outfits - on instagram @Ripplebelieveitornot. And she has a shop online under the same name.”

 

 **Sassydreamer** : Kthx gonna go blow all my money by ya’ll

 

 **Mr. Pringler** : not before i do first!!!!

 

“ _Ripple get’s a kick out of getting money from humans,_ ” Shaolin telecommunicated when Connor raised his eyebrows. “ _She makes custom outfits for pets too, if you were interested._ ”

 

Connor immediately pulled up her website in his HUD and delegated a portion of his processing power to scrolling through her pets section while he focused on his surroundings. Dear Kamski’s unused subscription eyeglasses; the scottish terrier was wearing an authentic tam o' shanter! “ _I might take a look. When I have some time._ ”

 

 **fandroid-of-androids** : Collin you friggin’ walnut how DARE you not warn us that you were going to have Connor on the stream my dumb human heart can’t take this shit #ConnorArmy

 

 **blue+red=purple** : #ConnorArmy

 

“I think...there’s been a misunderstanding,” Connor said with slow bemusement as #ConnorArmy appeared all over the chat at an unprecedented rate. “I was never the leader of an “army”, as I was granted no rank officially or unofficially, and the only reason I was in front of the line was because I knew the best route to Hart Plaza, and it was the most strategic position in case there were any snipers - me being a prime and obvious target and thus giving the others time to disperse if I were to go down.”

 

 **fandroid-of-androids:** ....WELP! That got real _real_ fast

 

 **Winteriscoming34** : Oh yeeeaaaaaaaaaaa you dead ass lead an actual army didn’t you? Like not even a year ago, through my own damn backyard practically!?!? Forgot about that holy shit

 

 **Collintrash4ever** : Also forgot that we’re in the presence of super brave android revolutionaries holy shit oh my g

 

“They’re not talking about the army you lead, Connor,” Collin said before Connor could continue to correct the viewers that he had not lead any armies, or reassure the sudden influx of horror/awe that he had so casually disregarded his life for the sake of his people (that was a kettle of fish he did not want to go further into on his brother's vlog channel of all places). He also noticed that little confirmation Collin slipped in of Connor having an army. He _did not_ have an army! “That’s just what all your fans call themselves. Like how mine call themselves the Sixty Squad.”

 

 **OwlJems** : #SixtySquad for life!!!!! we love you Collinnnnnnnnnn!!!!!@11122!!

 

Collin winked at the camera, causing a flurry of heart and crying emojis to appear, along with #SixtySquad. “ _Aw_. Love you guys too!”

 

“Fans? But...fans of what?” Connor’s LED cycled yellow with bafflement. He’d never posted any content, unlike Collin who did it on a regular basis, other than delightful pictures and videos of Sumo. There was an unsettling amount of amateur footage taken of him going about his daily tasks, but he didn’t think that justified a whole fanbase. Maybe it wasn’t very big? Or, more likely, people were mistaking him for Collin again. On a few occasions people had come up to him on the street and criticized him on his mediocre attempts at Collin-cosplay, and then scolded him for trying to trick innocent fans into liking him.

 

 **AX300-leafyGal** : ….You’ve gotta be shitting me? Does obliviousness run in your production line? Is that even possible?!?!

 

 **blue+red=purple** : How!? How are you a legit living computer and avoided all of the Connor Fandom this whole time??? This is so?? Endearing?? Yet so ridiculous?????

 

……………...The Connor what now!?!

 

 **fandroid-of-androids:** guys guys guys gusy GUYS GUSY this a legit red alert he has no idea H E H A S N O I D E A

 

 **ST300-Eric-bo-Berick:** Tell him nothing! PROTECT THE CINNAMON ROLL

 

 **Ilikecats:** [SpongeBob_Brain_On_Fire.jpeg] HIDE EVERYTHING

 

 **TheyIsAlive:** Please please _PLEASE_ do not look yourself up Connor. Particularly under the tags #Connor #Steponme

 

Connor was growing more and more alarmed as the chat suddenly exploded with pleas, nearly going faster than he could comprehend. As always, he decided to address the issue that might bespeak of future violence. “Why would I want to step on anyone? I wouldn’t do that, that seems very rude.” He turned to Collin. “Does that mean something else? Is that something humans do?”

 

 **AX300-leafyGal** : ………..yes. Humans. Of course. 👀

 

 **TheyIsAlive:** -__- top ten anime betrayals ^^^^

 

 **AX300-leafyGal:** 💅🏽💁🏽 I give not one fuck

 

 **Ilikecats:** savaaaaageeee leafy. savage

 

“I _dunnnnnnnnno_ ,” Collin drew out, squinting in thought. He then pouted at the screen. “They’re always telling me not to look up stuff either. Hey Squad, I appreciate you trying to protect me and all but I can take a few flames and hate comments.”

 

 **collinswaifu** : we just want you to be able to go to sleep at night without trauma honey that’s all.

 

 **Ilikecats:** preserve your innocence for as long as possible

 

 **datbloojuice** : iNnOcEnCE!?! Bitch where!?!? His mario shirt literally says I just wanna get fucked in all caps!! Like right now!!

 

Collin looked down at his shirt, pulling it out by the hem with his non camera-phone holding hand as if he were seeing it for the first time. “What’s wrong with Mario trying to get fucked?” Collin said looking back up at the camera with a slight head tilt. “He seems nice.”

 

 **Ilikecats: 😶 WELP** *hurls self off cliff*

 

 **collinswaifu:**......I…..honestly have no words. Well played Collin

 

 **OwlJems** : Wouldn’t be a Collin stream if the chat wasnt shook at least once

 

 **These-ARE-the-droids-youre-looking-for** : Some of ya’ll have not been fans since the beginning when he was doing instagram stories and it shows. This is a wholesome boi but he is N O innocent boi.

 

 **collinswaifu:** (._.  ) why did i ever think this fluorescent rave goblin was innocent™ WHY!?!?!

 

 **TheyIsAlive** : ok cool so this isn’t a fever dream where we’re ignoring collin and connor’s clothes ok so excuse me where the flap nasty fuck did you get a “what would markus do” shirt Connor?!?!?

 

 **TheyIsAlive:** cuz i’ve been to walmart a time or 2 and maybe all the sex deprived mario shirts and Markus merch are sold out now but that shit ain’t there

 

“He isn’t very kind in his video game. He’s always stomping on anthropomorphized mushrooms and turtles to death, apropos of nothing, and then he proceeds to steal all the money they leave in their wake, which could have gone to family members for funeral procedures.”

 

Collin looked back down at his shirt, eyes roving over it more carefully now. “Hm. Maybe he doesn’t deserve to get fucked after all.”

 

 **Winteriscoming34:**.....what is happening right now

 

 **tipp-y** : it’s been 30 min and im even more lost now then I was before. Is Connor the gamer??

 

 **knurt** : well shit man you might be onto something we’ve had it all wrong this hole time

 

 **collinswaifu** : Lookit Shaolin just eating his tide pod froyo and watching this shit show of a conversation

 

 **AX300-leafyGal** : Shaolin is a fucking mood. DO MINE OPTIC UNITS DECEIVE they have Thiri-Yum i know where i’m going tomorrow for lunch!

 

The two RK800’s turned to Shaolin to see him doing just that. He grinned at them and waved his spoon in a ‘carry on’ fashion, before taking a big scoop of his froyo and NOMING it in one bite. He seemed to have mastered “acting natural” quite well.

 

That distracted the chat (which was fitting considering who they were following) into asking questions about what they were eating. Or rather, spurred them into commenting on how cursed their snacks were. They seemed particularly offended by the fact that Connor was individually poking his boba balls with a needle and letting the juice out into his previously bought empty bowl, before popping the translucent casing into his mouth. They didn’t even take back there claims of him being wasteful when he poured the boba juice into his bowl of carmel to save for later. Rude. Collin’s food turned out to be a big hit for his ASMR hungry fans. He pulled zero punches when it came to maximum chronch and fizzing crackle output. All of his non ASMR fans, which seemed take the majority, expressed their disgust as much as their texting would allow.

 

Several viewers tried to bring the topic back to their wardrobes, but he, Collin and occasionally Shaolin (when he noticed Connor’s avoidance) kept steering the conversation to other things. How could Connor explain that in the beginning stages of his deviancy he had been terrified of appearing too machine like but equally terrified of failing at something so simple as figuring out what type of clothes he liked and disliked? How could he explain - in response to that paralysis - that he had gone online to bulk order a bunch of customizable t-shirts, having searched his limited data banks on fashion outside of business casual and business business for words and photos, and picked what he thought he might like before slapping them on?

 

He could not, that’s how. He did not particularly care what people like **glueMybuttcheeks42** or **sad-boibad-boi** thought of his inability to function in society properly, but he did care about not ruining Collin’s rapport with his online friends.

 

It was eventually deemed that Shaolin was the sanest of the three, with Connor coming in behind, _far far_ behind, in second place. Their fearless Squad leader, however, was not even on the podium.

 

“ALRIGHT GAMERS, now that Q and A time is over - ”

 

 **tipp-y:** When. When at any point was this established as Q&A time!?!?

 

“ - ya’ll know what day it is! It’s Sunday, and that means it’s PRAAAaaaAAANNK DAAaaAAYYY!”

 

Collin activated some effects that put “PRANK DAY” in large white letters diagonally on the screen, while the camera did rapid close ups of them with a pulsing rainbow filter.

 

The chat flooded with accusations of Collin proclaiming it to be “prank day” on various other days of the week. There were also cries of confusion from newer entries that again questioned if this was a gaming channel. Collin merely gave them a toothy grin and a thumbs up in response. Connor began to wonder if this relationship between his brother and his audience was healthy, and if maybe everyone should have a group session with Lucy.

 

Collin’s LED glowed briefly, eyes blinking rapidly as he switched the camera to be viewed from his optics. He put his phone in his pocket and then, slides _clip clopping_ and with all the stealth of a deviant lobster, flounced over to a table near the entrance of the store to scope out prank opportunities. It was either a testament to how many times Collin visited this store, or how immune these patrons were to nonsense, that no one paid Collin any mind.

 

“I really didn’t foresee my day going like this,” Shaolin said, confusion in his voice as he and Connor watched Collin create an extremely elaborate distraction to get a woman to leave her frozen yogurt unattended.

 

“This is actually one of the tamer scenarios my software predicted for today’s events,” Connor said, chuckling. There was 100% less rocket powered toasters, for one. Connor would nix that idea until the day he died.

 

They watched in silence as Collin did some tricky gymnastics to get to the, admittedly close in proximity, table a woman had just left. Connor had never seen Collin’s little prank segment before. He sincerely hoped his brother didn’t do anything that would cause them to get kicked out.

 

“Hey...Connor,” Shaolin said, “thanks for inviting me along. I know I kind of butted in to your plans and - uh. I - I really didn’t expect - uh. I mean, I’m saying….thank you.”

 

“You weren’t intruding on anything important,” Connor reassured, waving his hand at the very idea, “Collin brought up going to lunch five minutes before class started. This was definitely a spur of the moment occasion.”

 

“And thanks for helping me and answering my questions - you didn’t have to do that,” he went on. “And - and thanks for starting the class too.” Connor turned to Shaolin fully as he started to talk faster. His forearms were resting on the monochrom, metallic table, and he was leaning forward slightly. His eyes were bright (not a reflection of the beaming fluorescent light off of state of the art glass, but the proof of a soul) and looking directly into Connor’s. Desperate. Begging him. “It’s a lot of fun and really helpful and we all...we all appreciate what you’re doing for us. _Everything_ you’ve done for us.”

 

❌ IT’S THE LEAST I COULD DO

 

“You should come by New Jericho more often, not just for work and - and...stuff,” Shaolin continued, nodding firmy as if the decision was already made. He picked his cup back up and stirred the frozen yogurt inside, because his hands were free.

 

His hands were free. Connor blinked. Yes. Yes, of course they were.

 

“You know, just...whenever you have some time.”

 

“I͞ ̸don̢'̷t - ” Connor cut himself off and quickly calibrated his voice module to get the static out. When he spoke again, he was annoyed to hear that now his _volume_ output was malfunctioning and came out lower than he intended. “I don’t know if that is such a great idea.”

 

“Why not? You should be as welcomed there as any other android,” Shaolin said to his yogurt, grimacing as he stirred it harder than needed.

 

“Understandably, not everyone feels that way.”

 

Shaolin scoffed. “ _Understandably_ ,” he muttered. “Well, not _everyone_ takes time out of their week to provide a _free_ class for us that will help save our lives some day.”

 

Connor was having conflicting feelings about the turn of this conversation. It appeared that Shaolin at least, against all odds, forgave him for what he had done as a machine. Which felt good. But he also still felt bad, because it appeared that Shaolin forgave him for what he had done as a machine. Which made no _sense_ . Whenever he preconstructed this scenario (whenever he _allowed_ himself to), he always imagined that a small portion of his wider GUILT/SHAME/P҉̷A̴̵̡͢͞Į̡̧͠͝N̴̴͘ would be shorn off and he could continue earning forgiveness from the others, gaining more relief as he went on and thus improving on how he could help the next person.

 

Clearly, solving his emotional issues was not going to be a linear ordeal. Oh. Good. He. Always loved a good...challenge.

 

Shaolin looked at him again, eyes flitting over Connor’s face. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it after some hesitation. He went through a series of microexpressions, before saying; “Uh, anyway. I have a cockatoo and a chinchilla at home. If you ever wanted to come by and see them.”

 

Connor felt a smile overtake his features unbidden. Was there anyone left in Detroit who was unaware of his love for animals? “That’s an interesting pair of pets to get. Do they get along?”

 

“Yes. Too well, actually,” Shaolin chuckled. “I keep finding them cuddled up together in each other’s enclosures whenever I return to the apartment.”

 

Connor’s thirium pump actually stuttered. Could. Could anything else possibly be cuter? Perhaps 10 puppies wearing various historically accurate outfits - no! You utter fool! Connor thought. This was no time to compare and calculate cuteness levels! Not when he should be dedicating all processing power on the best way to ask Shaolin if he had any pictures of his pets without sounding like a creeper.

 

“Uh oh, Collin’s target is returning. I hope she doesn’t react too badly - I’ve never seen anyone get angry at him before though, so....”

 

Connor had been so consumed by his inner turmoil that he had almost forgotten that his brother was up to some shit. He scanned the table the woman had been sitting at. There was only a single cup of frozen yogurt and her bag in another chair. When he didn’t find anything immediately amiss, he reviewed his memory file to make a side by side comparison.

 

_Scanning……..scannin….scan...scanning…….._

 

Connor’s eyes widened at the results. His brother had added an extra maraschino cherry on top of the whipped cream.

 

You walked a fine fucking line, Collin.

 

“That’s _eight_ additional calories added to her total count,” Connor breathed with equal amounts of shock and awe, “Collin...you absolute madman.”

 

“Eight calories isn’t a _significant_ amount,” Shaolin said, though his intense tracking of the woman absentmindedly approaching her seat belied his concern. “She shouldn’t be too upset, right?”

 

“Calorie regulation is very important for human health...though, what her reaction will be is difficult to predict…” Connor grimaced. “Are all of Collin’s pranks so...edgy?”

 

Shaolin shrugged helplessly. “Pretty much. He’s always trying to push his limits with each episode.”

 

Which was probably the appeal for all the people watching. A classic case of second hand adrenaline, as it were.

 

But at what cost, Collin? At what cost?

 

Well, there wasn’t much Connor could do at this point. He’d lost his chance to interfere without making the situation worse about 48 seconds ago.

 

The woman sat down, and grabbed her spoon, her human eyes unable to detect the masterful deception in front of her. Collin, bold little bastard that he is, was sitting at another table across from her, practically vibrating like a roomba with suppressed laughter behind a menu. The woman took a bite of her frozen yogurt, extra cherry and all. Shaolin gasped and covered his eyes with his hands. “ _I can’t believe_ _he let her go through with it oh my goodness!_ ” he hissed.

 

Connor kept alert. Humans could either  react violently from such bamboozlement, or take it for the jest that it was. Like he said before - this was a difficult situation to predict.

 

“Ok ok ok ok!” Collin burst out laughing. He Rushed towards the now startled woman, phone held up to get them both in view when he reached her side. “I can’t let this keep going! You’re on my show, Calling All Collin’s, and you’ve just been pranked!”

 

“Huh - oh! Ha ha - the pillows on my car! I get it. Ha! That’s a good one.”

 

Collin snorted and gave her a look that such a ridiculous conclusion deserved; that of pity. “TCH. _Noooo_. That was the distraction. I put an extra cherry on your froyo.”

 

“Oh. Uh, thank you?”

 

Connor’s fans whirred easier as (“Let’s give it up for Mirabelle for being a good sport ya’ll!!”) Mirabelle took Collin’s trick in stride, and the two went off to take selfies in front of a decorated wall with props specifically for taking pictures on instagram. Connor and Shaolin exchanged glances, before they both broke out into relieved laughter. That was entirely too intense. Connor didn’t think he could handle being apart of Collin’s vlogs if it was always like this. Not without some idea of what he was going to do first.

 

As Connor and Shaolin continued eating and chatted some more, a Relationship Status notification popped up into Connor’s HUD.

 

**SHAOLIN BEING [FRIEND ^]**

 

Oh. That was....

 

 **Initiate saline purge in optic units:** SELECT [Y]/[N]?

 

>>>>> **[N]** **[N] [N]**

 

He felt the solution fill his optics...

 

>>>>>> ** _[N]_** **_[N] [N] [N]_** **_[N] [N]_**...for the love of all that is good in this world!

 

Shaolin tilted his head, microexpressions exhibiting concern. “Are you alright, Connor?”

 

“Yes,” Connor said. And he absolutely meant it. Now, if only he could get his useless body to stop exhibiting signs that he was not. “How many expletives did you say Jet knows?”

 

“Twelve,” he said, letting the subject drop thankfully, and sighing in exasperation at his bird’s precocious nature. “Echo won’t stop reinforcing them whenever he learns one, and now I can’t figure out how to get him to unlearn them….”

 

Maybe Connor would visit New Jericho outside of meetings and assisting in security updates to the building and hosting defense class. There were many androids who would be upset by his presence there, he was sure. But.

 

But maybe there were some, outside of Markus and his brother, who would _not_ be upset. And. And…

 

He would never stop trying to make up for what he had done. _Never_. But maybe that didn’t mean he had to separate himself from his community.

 

Maybe. That would be….very nice.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fic request from an anon on my tumblr, asking for interactions between Connor and Carlos Ortiz's android aka Shaolin Being. Hope you guys all liked it, and I hope the anon liked it too!
> 
> For more updates, fic shorts, headcanons, asks, and other nonsense check out my tumblr at: https://emiliaf25.tumblr.com/


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